


a little loss of innocence

by owlvsdove



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-22
Updated: 2016-02-22
Packaged: 2018-05-22 16:54:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6087376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlvsdove/pseuds/owlvsdove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Roxy has a massive crush on Eggsy Unwin. It's becoming a problem.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a little loss of innocence

 

_My parents are going to kill me._

That’s the first thing she thinks, and really, it’s this kind of goody-two-shoes cliche shite that she’s been trying to avoid.

Not that Roxy’s been good her entire life. Seventeen years old, and she still has a reputation around school for punching a kid’s lights out when suggesting that the Spice Girls weren’t emblematic of a wider feminist movement. Well, she presumes that’s what he was suggesting. He was mostly talking about Posh’s fanny.

Regardless, lately Rox had been finding herself a bit restless. Too big for her body.  

And that led her to Eggsy Unwin.

 

 

 

He’s a scholarship kid, supposedly with insane test scores, although you wouldn’t know it just by looking. When he first transferred to her public school, he was round-faced and quiet. Would’ve blended into the walls if people weren’t so cruel to him.

But cruelty made him sharp and fierce and strong.

She watched it happen. Somehow right before her eyes, without so much as a breath spoken between them, she watched him fortify himself, jawline like a knife into her consciousness, plunged into the fear of others.

Then she saw him with his sister.

Eggsy walked to school every day, as far as she knew; but once last term, after he’d shown up with a broken leg, his mum came to pick him up. Roxy watched from across the yard as the woman waited, holding a baby close to her chest, and how Eggsy’s face lit entirely when he saw her. The way he gave her his finger to gum and chew on. So gentle and adoring.

It’s weird and confusing, but Roxy wants a piece of that for herself.

 

 

 

So he’s a little James Dean-y. Leather jacket-less, but he struts into her English literature class with his blazer wrinkled and tie jaunty, as always. Like maybe a pair of lustful hands had pushed them around moments before.

This is getting ridiculous. Restlessness has slid decidedly into something else and she’s suffering the consequences, thighs pressing together as their instructor prattles on inanely about _Hamlet._ It’s daylight, painfully, and he’s scribbling in a notebook, blissfully unaware of how stupid her life has become in this very moment.

He can’t possibly be taking notes. He’s Eggsy Unwin. Too smart and too lax for notes, anyway. He tears a sheet out with a loud rip that does nothing to disturb the room. She watches him fold it up and rolls her eyes, realizing instantly what it is. But rather than passing it off to one of his mates, it makes it’s way two rows over and one row back to her desk.

He’s not looking at her.

She unfolds it gingerly, like it might dissolve out of existence if she acknowledges it too much.

 

 

 

_be my partner for the hamlet project?_

 

 

 

Now he’s looking. She tries not to look totally shell-shocked as she nods quickly at him.

And she’s gifted with a grin.

Fuck.

 

 

 

She tries to bolt as soon as class is over, but he catches her pretty easily.

“Have you read the book?” he asks.

“What book?”

“Hamlet.”

“Oh. Not yet,” she lies. She gets this sinking feeling that maybe he wanted to be partners because he thought she’d do the whole thing for the both of them.

Well, he has another thing coming. She has a good girl reputation to disrupt.

“I’m not interested in doing all the work for you,” she says, perhaps a touch too coldly. “So if that’s why you want to be my partner, you might as well move along now.”

He holds his hands up in defense. “That’s not why I want to be your partner.”

“Oh.” The natural question now is to ask why he _does._ But she can’t make her lips move.

Mercifully, the bell goes off.

Now she bolts.

 

 

 

It’s not that she’s usually cool, or anything. But she did have a sense of decorum at some point, one that now seems to have vanished without a trace.

This is especially evident as the phone in her father’s (thankfully empty) study rings shrilly.

“Morton residence,” she answers, sounding at bored as possible.

“May I speak to Roxy please?”

It’s him.

“Speaking.”

“It’s Eggsy.”

“Oh, erm. Hi, Eggsy.”

“Listen, I was wondering—”

 

 

 

And that’s how she finds herself in the library at 8 PM on a school night.

Sure, it isn’t that late, but she’d had to phone her parents to say she was invited to dinner at a friend’s house. And that’s a lie.

Which is fine. Lying is fine.

But Eggsy’s studying across from her and she keeps shifting in her seat, letting her knees open a little too much under the table. Eggsy actually seems to be paying attention to the work, too, which is infuriating. She’s third in the class for a goddamn reason. She can’t let him outstripe her.

“Do you think they have one of those easy translations?” He looks up from his book to her. “Like Shakespearean English into normal English?”

“That would probably make it easier,” she says dumbly.

He gets up to start searching the stacks, and suddenly words are leaving her mouth before she can fully think them through.

“Want me to help you look?”

He smiles at her, a genuine sort of one that fills up her insides with warmth.

They float through a few different aisles, drifting farther and farther away from their table. Dimly Roxy recognizes that she’s not being all that helpful, but really, she’s been having so much trouble concentrating lately, and wouldn’t it be smarter to just ask a librarian?

“We should probably ask a librarian,” Eggsy says suddenly, biting his lip as he comes up empty.

That’s it. If he can read her mind, she might as well give in already.

All at once, he backs her up slowly against the shelves and she stops breathing. But then her slick fingers crinkle into his shirt and she realizes: She backed herself up. She pulled him closer. She’s making this happen.

Fuck.

Most of the controlled expression on his face has dropped off, and instead of the smirk she was expecting he’s awed, lips slack.

She genuinely can’t help herself.

When her lips surge forward, he meets them. A little sloppy but full of enthusiasm. And so, so sweet. She wasn’t expecting that.

Honestly, maybe she doesn’t know him that well at all. She’s spent so much time watching him but very little talking to him -- she supposes that’s the nature of a crush. But everything she’s seen, every little bit of him she’s soaked up from fact and rumor and urban legend, well. That’s a person she wants to know.

She pulls back as fast as she’d gone in, and opens her eyes to see that she kissed the bloody brains out of him, if his face is anything to go by.

“I like you,” she blurts. “Is that alright?”

Eggsy is silent for a long moment, mouth gaping. And then:

“Yeah, it’s fucking alright.”

She beams.

He kisses her again.

And then she realizes. _My parents are going to kill me._

 

(A year later, they do something rather _different_ in the library to celebrate the anniversary of the day that, as Eggsy puts it, _Rox put the moves on me_. It’s during school hours, so they’re caught rather quickly. Roxy earns her first and only suspension from school. With an impish grin, she tells Eggsy it was worth it.)

 

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr @jessssicajones


End file.
